Airplanes
by Pasta and Sin
Summary: "Mattie? What's your wish?" "You already made my wish for me." Canada and America (Yes, exactly in that order.) Oneshot


Matthew was never really good at astronomy. He didn't know which star was which, nor was he good at naming the planets. But somehow, he found himself drawn to anything related to space. It wasn't because of its vastness or because of the air of mystery it's shrouded in. Although one thing's for sure, _he_ is one of the reasons.

Matthew threw his head back, admiring the beautiful night sky that was dusted with billions and billions of stars. The moon looked down on him, full and majestic, and the horizon seemed to stretch further and further and it was such a breathtaking sight. The wind swept across the ground, tickling his exposed skin with a cold but refreshing kiss which Matthew accepts openly. "Hey Alfie," He glanced at his side, a careless jerk of his head.

There was no response but the timid Canadian went on with an ardent attitude that he only ever showed around his brother. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he continued. "Do you still remember that wish we made when we were younger?" Matthew reminisced thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly to the side as he did so. "I can still recall." A wish on an airplane.

As if on cue, an airplane flew overhead with its distinct flashing light. Matthew can't help but break into a fit of laughter at the humourously coincidental timing of the plane and lie on the luscious green grass. The sky, the familiar atmosphere, the welcoming breeze; this prairie is still the same even after all these years. He inhaled the fresh scent he knew all too well and it's amazing how some things remain the same even when everything else has already drastically changed. This was one of the few things the Canadian was thankful of.

"It happened on a night like this too. You were sitting beside me, pointing out all the constellations..." Closing his eyes, Matthew replayed the memory is his head.

* * *

"You see that over there, Mattie?" Alfred's eyes twinkled along with the stars as he strained to point out the exact spot of the hunter with his little finger. "That's Orion." The small American grinned, feeling triumphant and accomplished.

"Where?" The poor Canadian narrowed his eyes, searching the endless blanket of stars for this so called 'Orion' but there were so many of them. "I can't find it, brother."

Alfred placed his hands on the Canadian's cheek, angling his head towards the direction of one particular constellation. "Not there, THERE." He squished the other boy's cheek trying to make him see the same pattern of stars he was seeing. "Do you see it now? Do you? It's just right there!"

Matthew focused on the direction his brother forced him to face and there it was- A line of three beautiful stars that twinkled, representing the belt of the hunter. "Ah! It's there! I can see it, Alfie." Matthew beamed.

He continued to adore the spectacular sight, his breath almost caught in his throat. It wasn't everyday that he could stargaze with his brother like this and it just felt amazing that the young Canadian was nearly at loss for words. "It's really really stunning, eh?" He finally commented but it took him a few minutes to realise that there was a lack of reply coming from the talkative American. Matthew risked a glance at his brother who was now squinting his big blue eyes at the night sky, brows furrowed. Before he could even ask what was wrong, Alfred suddenly burst in excitement, flailing his arms at the sky with another huge grin spreading on his face as if he had just made a discovery.

"Look, look! A shooting star! It's a shooting star, Matt. Make a wish before it disappears!" Alfred practically jump-tackled Matthew and shook him.

"E-eh?" There was indeed something in the sky, moving slow and steady, but the confused Canadian saw no shooting star. "Alfie, that's an ai-"

"Shhh, make a wish! Hurry!" It was hopeless trying to talk the enthusiastic American out of it. He eagerly shut his eyes close and clasped his hands together, bowing his head as if he was praying- A usual ritual he does before making a wish. "Wish I may, wish I might, umm... Something something tonight. I wish that Arthur is back!" He paused for a moment and thought hard, his face scrunching.

Matthew didn't want his brother to be disappointed if he finds out that he made a wish, not on a shooting star, but on an airplane but he didn't have any choice. Sighing, he reached out a hand to tap Alfred's shoulder.

Suddenly, Alfred's face lit up again. "And Francis too." He ended it by flashing a blinding yet pleasant smile at Matthew.

The Canadian froze after hearing the name 'Francis'. His heart seemed to stop beating and all he can hear is the uneven rhythm of his breathing. The unwanted memory from that night came rushing back to him and he was in that room again, clinging on Alfred's hand; he was back at that night where his papa stormed out of the door, not even sparing him a glance; he was back at the time where he waited all night for the familiar wavy blonde hair and pair of bluish amethyst orbs to peek through the door, to surprise him and take him home; he was back at the night his papa abandoned him. But he didn't face all that anguish alone since Alfred was there through it all. He was holding Matthew's hand, he was sleeping on the couch as Matthew waited, he was the one covering Matthew with a blanket as he fell asleep on the floor from all the crying.

Alfred tugged the young Canadian's sleeve, pulling him back to the comforting fields of their little prairie. "Mattie? What's your wish?"

"Huh?" Matthew rapidly blinked, thrown off by his brother's question. That's right, he wasn't there at that night, he was here now. "You already made my wish for me." A heartwarming feeling settled at his previously knotted stomach and he was genuinely happy to have someone like his brother to be with him even if he can be out of hand sometimes.

* * *

It's been so long but Matthew can clearly remember it as if it was only yesterday. It's more or less burnt- imprinted in his mind. For some reason, Matthew felt warm and soothed whenever he looked back at this memory.

"Hey Alfie, I'd like to make a wish on an airplane again." Matthew stared up at the starry night sky. Oh, it was as beautiful as ever. He stretched his hands up, thinking that if he just extended it up a bit more, he'd be able to reach the stars. His lips quivered and he bit them in an attempt to suppress it.

"Do you wanna know what my wish would be this time?" His voice cracked and he was filled with this sudden sadness, sudden longing. He doesn't really understand why he felt that way. Perhaps, he was just overwhelmed, perhaps, he just missed someone- missed _him_. But it was stupid to miss someone who was just beside him. "I wish _you_ were home, brother." He glanced at the old tombstone at his side before finally breaking apart.

By this time, Matthew was already crying. He covered his face with his arm and wept. His sobs were all that could be heard in that prairie that night. Before, it would be laughter, teases, and even lost dreams spoken between brothers. But ever since his brother left, it was only Matthew's voice left to resound that place.

"I'm sorry..." He paused, stifling his cries. "Crying musn't suit me, eh?" He wiped the stray tears that stained his cheeks and temples but the action was rendered useless since more tears came out each time. He clutched his chest, trying to ease the excruciating ache but it didn't seem to do anything at all.

Pain tightly squeezed his heart as he remembered more stupid memories he spent with his brother: The time Alfred sang and nearly destroyed Matthew's eardrums, the time they raced to their bedroom to avoid Arthur's signature burnt scones, the time they slid down the stairs on a sled and ended up badly injured together, the time they made a bet on who could survive breakfast with Arthur. The more he remembered, the lighter the burden in his chest felt. Soon, his horrible sobs were uncontrollable snickers and chuckles. It was indeed stupid but it was also fun, wild and reckless. Just like his brother.

"Hey, Alfie." This time, he sat down and slowly knelt in front of the tombstone that read:

' _The friend, the brother, and the hero:_

 _Alfred F. Jones_

 _You will be forever remembered in our memories.'_

"I still haven't told you that we made a wish on an airplane, not a shooting star. I just wanted you to know that, brother."


End file.
